


it's raining somewhere else

by herwhiteknight



Category: RWBY
Genre: Couch Cuddles, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Flirting, Hurt/Comfort, Present Tense, just a lill bit of fluff. yknow if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 10:24:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16596047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herwhiteknight/pseuds/herwhiteknight
Summary: In the aftermath of the events at Haven Academy, everyone takes time to recover. Everyone except Yang. And Blake notices.





	it's raining somewhere else

**Author's Note:**

> Please excuse any spelling mistakes or tense errors. I just wrote this in one sitting 'cause I'm still trying to learn their voices and it started out in present tense but since I'm not too used to writing in present tense as much anymore, I might've reverted here or there. So just point then out to me and I'll correct them! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy! :)

It shouldn't be as peaceful as it is. It's only been three days since the aftermath of the events at Haven Academy and it feels like things should be more tense. As if there should be a running current of anxiety that keeps the air thrumming with unease.

But it's not. There's no tension, no anxiety. Nothing. Just an overwhelming feeling of tired weariness that seems to permeate the whole house, seeping through the cracks in the floorboards and overtaking the furniture with a feeling of dreary exhaustion.

And Yang, who's been through hell and back, who knows that they've _all_ been through hell and back, almost can't stand it. She's restless and she's pacing through the house like a broken piece of Atlesian machinery – up stairs, crossing landings, stepping out onto balconies just to step back inside after mere moments.

It's driving Weiss crazy. It's driving Ruby crazy. The whole house alternates between weariness and tension – depending on the room that Yang was momentarily deciding to inhabit. It affects everyone except Blake. Because Yang's been avoiding whichever room her teammate-turned- _something_ has set herself up in for the day.

It isn't until Weiss declares that she and Ruby need the whole top floor to practice new semblance combos and Qrow and Ozpin (Oscar? _Ozcar??_ ) tell her to scram when she attempts to sulk in the kitchen that Yang _finally_ ends up in a space where Blake is settled.

It's the library. Because of _course_ it is.

Yang hangs out awkwardly in the threshold, teetering on the line that clearly separated _house space_ from _house space that_ Blake _was in._ Oddly enough? Blake appears to not have heard her so far, and Yang wasn't exactly subtle as she'd come stomping through the house before freezing in this exact spot. After a moment though, her brain finally catching up with her speeding heart, Yang clues in. Blake's curled up on a pillow in a dusty patch of sunlight underneath the only open window in the room.

_That's... too fucking cute,_ Yang catches herself thinking before she even realizes that her feet are carrying her towards Blake like an undeniable undertow. Unable to stop herself, even as her logic screamed a reminder of the _first_ time she and Blake met and how Blake definitely hadn't wanted to be disturbed then either, she ends up in front of her former partner. Partner- _turned-something she didn't want to think about right now._

“Should've known you'd be here,” Yang teases gently. “In the library, with a book, basking in the sunlight. It's all very typical.”

Blake lifts her eyes from the page and she doesn't look at all startled to see Yang standing two feet in front of her. _Maybe she'd been aware of me the whole time,_ Yang thinks as Blake regards her quietly for a few moments. “Is there something you're implying with that, Yang?”

Girl could take as good as she got... “Uh,” Yang starts awkwardly, scratching the back of her head. “Um, no, I just meant-”

Blake laughs lightly at Yang's stumbling. “Cat got your tongue?” she asks, lifting an eyebrow.

Yang _immediately_ flares red at that, her cheeks and ears lighting up as if her semblance had been activated. “If it's you,” she returns thoughtlessly, then promptly slaps a hand over her mouth and falls back a few steps. “I, uh.. nope! Never mind I said that!” she laughs, just about to turn away when-

“Yang,” Blake's voice calling her back stops her in her tracks. “It's okay,” she reassures gently, though there was a soft blush dusting the tops of her cheekbones. “Why don't you sit with me?”

“But, there's not much space and that window ledge doesn't look that comfortable-”

“Then bring that couch over,” Blake points across the room to where a small two-seater couch – Yang _refuses_ to think of it as a _loveseat –_ is stationed between two tall bookcases. “And we can both enjoy the sun that way.”

“I don't want to get in the way of your reading, I know it's hard to find time...,” Yang sputters on inadequate excuses even as she crosses the room to haul the couch over at Blake's request.

“I'm done reading for today,” Blake says, carefully sliding her bookmark in between a pair of pages that look nowhere close to being the end of a chapter. But Yang's not going to argue with her about something so stupid – not when they've got so much else to say to each other.

So all Yang says as she drags the couch over in front of the shifting patch of sunlight is, “Okay,” in a very quiet voice. And waits until Blake has moved from the window ledge onto the couch before settling as opposite from Blake as she can on that small couch. As it is, their toes are still touching.

“I'm worried about you Yang,” is what she says first, and, well, it's unexpected.

_How can you be worried when you don't care about me? When you left me?_ But she keeps those thoughts trapped and buried. “Oh?”

“Everyone else is taking time to rest and recover from everything, but... you're...,” Blake bites her lip and it's everything Yang can do to stop herself from surging forward and occupying those lips with a different set of teeth. The emotional whiplash unsettles whatever calm she'd manufactured in Blake's presence and it boils over.

“I'm fine,” she says sharply. “Everyone keeps looking at me like _that_ , like you're doing right now – and you're the _last_ person I need it from! I shouldn't have come in,” Yang rolls her neck, bones popping in frustration. She stands, lifts a shoulder. “I'll tell someone to find you in a couple hours when it's dinner.”

“Yang. Please,” Blake speaks and, for the second time, her quiet voice stops Yang dead. _She doesn't even know, does she? The control that she has._ “We don't have to talk then. We don't have to talk for awhile – not until you're ready. Until.. we're _both_ ready. But I do want you to rest.”

She hasn't turned but, even with her back still facing Blake, she can see the tension that's fallen from Yang's shoulders. “Where? Everyone else has kicked me out of their space, and I don't want to get in your way-”

“You not resting is getting in my way enough,” Blake rolls her eyes, standing up and touching Yang's shoulder, pulling her gently around. “You think I've been able to focus on a single word of my books these past three days? When I know you're pacing around the house at all hours of the day, not slowing down?”

“Blake, I-”

“Enough's enough, Yang,” Blake says firmly. “You're going to sit on that couch, I'm going to get my book and we're going to spend the rest of the afternoon in silence.”

“Fine,” Yang huffs, folding her arms as she plops back down onto the couch, “but if you've got your book, then what do you expect me to do?”

“You can take a nap,” Blake tells her, settling against the armrest of the couch and positioning her legs to give Yang space to lay down. “Ilia told me once that I make a pretty good pillow.”

“I bet she did,” Yang mutters to herself. “She was in love with you too, after all.”

“What was that?” Blake says, feigning deafness for Yang's benefit even though she'd heard _exactly_ what Yang just said.

“No, no, it's... it's nothing.”

“Then I'm going to get back to my book, if you don't mind,” Blake says, opening her book as Yang hums against her stomach, her frame growing heavier by the second as sleep overtakes her within moments. Blake tangles her fingers in Yang's hair and turns her attention back to the chapter that she'd almost finished before Yang had made her entrance. But now, instead of her worries keeping her focus from her book, she finds now that she has something much more pleasant distracting her.

“Sleep well, Yang,” she murmurs into the pages, settling her hand across the soft skin of Yang's shoulders that are now rising and falling gently in the first unencumbered sleep she'd had since the aftermath of the trauma.

 


End file.
